Paradise Circus
by Sedaytion
Summary: A serial killer is on the loose; murdering people in the Foundation and on Second Miltia. When Gaignun Kukai becomes next in line, Marion Frost and her partners know they have to work faster to find out who the murderer is.
1. Climbing Up The Walls

**P a r a d i s e C i r c u s **

**Chapter one**

**Climbing Up the Walls**

**Information:** _A serial killer is on the loose; killing people in the Foundation and on Second Miltia. When Gaignun Kukai becomes is next, Marion Frost and her partners know they have to work faster to find out who the murderer is._

**Comments:**_ Not exactly my best writing but its fun to do and I suppose that's all that matters ^_^ The A-levels and GCSE's are English qualifications btw (A-levels you get in college, GCSE's you get in school) so please don't flame me if your like WTFFF are all of these? Anyway, it's a little…tad different to other stories but I hope you enjoy x the quote is from the song 'Paradise Circus' (lol I'm so creative stealing a songs name for a title) by Massive Attack. I think Marion's a boys name but I don't suppose that matters so much O.o and I know, Frost; really creative second name (not). I wanted her to be called Duncan but I know that can be used for a first name for a male (plus I had a science teacher who's last name was Duncan XD) so yeah Frost's finnee XD Anyway~ Do enjoy and I hope everyones alright x (BTW first Gaignun story WITHOUT him being in love with the main girl! Omg how surprising XD I actually really want a hate relationship between them – should make things a lot more interesting to write :3 bwahaharh) xxxx_

_It's unfortunate that when we feel a stone we can roll ourselves over 'cause we're uncomfortable,_

_Oh well – the Devil makes us Sin but we like it when we're spinning in his crib,_

_Love is like a Sin, my love, for the ones that feel it the most,_

_Look at how with her eyes, like a flame, she will love you like a flower,_

_But never love you again._

Marion Frost ran a hand through her raven, curled locks with her left hand, frowning slightly as she felt the white gold ring wrapped around her wedding finger snag with some of her locks. When the hand snapped away suddenly, she felt a sharp jolt of pain as the hair was tugged from her skin, to fall somewhere on the ground but in a split second the incident was forgotten about. Her mind had bigger things; far more important things, to worry about. Or think – little did Frost worry. She lived up to her name; acted as cool as Frost (not cold mind you, the woman had not a cold thing about her) and stayed calm in any situation. Even in the current situation where at one in the morning she was being drove down the Kukai Foundation streets by her assistant, Brian Duncan (the rookie as everyone called him, who only had a steady hand at the wheel of his slick black car that he had somehow afforded with a salary lower then Frosts. But even with his supposedly steady hands, they were trembling at the tips; almost threatening to keep them from the centre of the road). Through her nostrils she could smell his scent of the Station he had come from; the lingering scent of coffee grounds along with sweat and the faint smell of his cologne he had put on the previous day. On the other hand, she had refreshed herself, smelling of sweet lavender and soap, though her curled hair was still slightly damp from the quick shower she had taken half an hour ago and she wore nothing but a pair of white shorts along with a long sleeved blue football shirt that belonged to her fiancé. It supported one of the teams in Second Miltia, he was ever so fond of. Rather embarrassing attire to be caught in but the phone call she had received had been more then an emergency and not a moment could be wasted. Not if they wanted to keep their jobs, of course. With any other person they could have had half an hour to get their minds set and be presentable but not with Gaignun Kukai. He wanted them at the Durandle then and there. Frost hated such arrogance though she abided none the less, awoke Duncan up from his nap and got him to drive. Sitting on her lap, bouncing slightly as the wheels drove over the cobble stones (hovering vehicles weren't really used on the Foundation, which was hard for Frost to get used to), were notepads and tape recorders she had managed to gather before leaving the house. A pen was somewhere in the glove compartment but that she didn't need at the moment. She'd remember it sure enough before leaving the clean car. Or, truth be told, she'd remind Duncan about it so he'd get it before leaving the car.

"You think we got 'em cornered, ma'am?" Duncan suddenly questioned her with his almost childish voice. He was far younger then she; perhaps ten years, having joined the force barely half a year ago at the age of eighteen. She thought it was young, but she had only been a year older then he when she had left college to join with her A-Levels in Psychology, Sociology and Religious Studies along with her AS in Human Biology but she would have joined earlier if she had known education wasn't what took her far in the ladder of the force. It was sheer determination; something she was hoping to squeeze out of her young assistant (who in fact was her trainee but she preferred assistant none-the-less). He was a nice kid, with thin chocolate locks that were medium length and constantly brushed from his dark face, which had a round shape to it. His eyes were friendly; brightly coloured green. He had a muscular structure about him, which was handy in his job (she couldn't run, not with her leg so he did it for her). He wore identical clothes, day in, day out; pairs of dark black coloured jeans that were accompanied by a white dress shirt. Some of the dress shirts had patterns on their edges, while others didn't. His attire sometimes frustrated her; she was only just getting him to wear ties every other day. When he was first hired, half the time he didn't even wear a shirt to hang his badge on, which really got on her nerves. His English wasn't fine either, but such a thing grew with the job. His voice had a strong country accent to it, and often his slurred his words, or even created ones he didn't mean to. Obviously, he hadn't been born and rose on the Foundation (well, neither had she – she came from Miltia, and then trained on Second Miltia before moving to the Foundation just two years ago). Despite all of the little things about him that irritated her, including his ability to talk without thinking, she had to admit he was a sweet little rookie; a good one that was impossible to hate. He _always _tried and that mattered the most to her. He was a hard worker.

Pausing, she stared foreword at the road with her ice blue coloured eyes that were so unusual; so bright that they could be spotted a mile away. They were the first thing noticed on the Detectives face; her striking eyes and then her dazzling smile that would shine brighter then the sun. After letting out a breath and breathing inwards, she replied to him in her o-so calming voice; "We do not think before we enter the scene," she explained to him information she had told him many times before. Thinking before starting to investigate would cloud the mind; it would make someone have theories that possibly wouldn't exist and then you'd find yourself drizzling over things that didn't matter, rather then gathering evidence that could be the different between a conviction and another life lost. They had to start with their minds a blank canvas and allow the evidence, or lack of, to draw the picture. It would have been no good if Di'vinci was handed a canvas that had something on it already that he had to draw over. With her fragile looking, pale hands; she held the sheets upon her to keep them from slipping off her thin legs. Unable to help himself, Duncan glanced at her legs that were like white matchsticks; so thin and frail they looked as if they were going to snap off her hips. Wrapped around her right one was a large, black brace that was attached just above her knee, pushing against the little fat she had, squeezing down to the middle of her shin. In the back seats were her crutches he had seen her use the entire time he had known her. Even nine months ago when he applied to be part of the force, she had interviewed him with her crutches; hobbling along in the Station. Her before was when she could walk and run as much as she wanted; catch the butterflies in the air or run into her fiancés warm arms (she told him a lot of happy stories), but her after was crutches along with constant check-ups from the Doctor. In their day and age, being disabled was something that was rare; utterly rare. Apparently, just a year ago she was left immobile where both of her legs weren't able to work, even with an ample amount of Nano Technology. It had been an accident, of course. Well that was what she called it. She had been investigating a hot scene ('hot scene' as they called it, was when the suspect was most likely still around – something utterly dangerous but Duncan had only learnt this _after_ investigating his first one on the twenty-ninth of October; a month ago – a date he would never forget) and before she knew it, the murderer they were trying to lock up attempted to push her off a buildings scaffolding to get his freedom. It had resulted in her paralyzing the lower half of her body, and the murderer was charged far worse then he thought he would have been without attempting to murder his trainer. Her right leg had been crushed on the ground by a metal bar that had fallen from the scaffolding, rendering it un-healable. They fixed it up as much as they could; some of the bones together but it couldn't work at all. She could feel it slightly, but only the slight pinch of the brace she wore was it. Her left leg wasn't perfect; it was better and enough to walk on slightly with those crutches but she didn't care. A lifetime in crutches meant nothing to her. Nothing would affect Marion Frost and even if she had lost her walking for life she knew she would still be in the same car, with the same rookie; going to the same destination to see Gaignun Kukai, who was supposed to be the next person in a string of serial murders but he had somehow avoided his death. Unlike the other half a dozen victims.

"Take a left here," she told him, nodding in the direction with a small smile at his forgetfulness. "Docking Station's our destination," she reminded him in her informative tone.

Doing as he was told, he took a sharp left, almost missing the turn completely. It didn't take long until they were at the Docking Station's car park where after Duncan had turned off the engine, they could hear the water splashing. Reaching behind the car seats, Frost pulled out her two crutches with her right hand, almost knocking Duncan's head off as she brought them across the car, which caused her to laugh slightly. Opening the door, she adjusted the items she had for a few, long moments; trying not to think of how much they had to rush. _Gaignun Kukai would have to wait_, she reminded herself. _He managed to survive and if he wants to be a grumpy baby about it he can. Man needs to count his lucky stars that he just hasn't been slaughtered like cattle._

"Grab these, Duncan," she ordered, nodding down to the notebooks she had left on the seat when she was finally stood up on her crutches. Silently, he grabbed what she wanted him to, and after she told him, he took a pen out from the glove box, shutting and locking the car when he was done. Gratefully, she smiled at the young kid who was just an inch taller then she was (and it wouldn't surprise her if he grew a few more – he was only a little kid, bless him). As she hobbled into the launcher to the Durandle, she didn't exactly feel all _that_ professional. Dressed in a football shirt whilst clinging onto crutches for her life wasn't exactly the best way to look. She had her pistol with her, just wrapped under her short's belt and concealed by her fiancés shirt, which looked so baggy on her she looked smaller then she was; more fragile then ever but she wasn't fragile nor was she vulnerable; Marion Frost was a fighter. Clipped on the collar of the shirt was her ID badge. Unlike the others in the Station she couldn't really keep it in her pocket to thrust out willy-nilly. She had to keep it on show. It was way too awkward to balance on one leg while trying to grab the ID, which was something she did God knew how many times a day. Pfft, everyone should have known her by then. A female cop with crutches surely wasn't that hard to remember. Even just grabbing her gun in an emergency was difficult as anything but it didn't stop her. Unluckily, she couldn't stand on both legs; only the one. If she put too much weight on her right leg her knee would collapse on her; forcing the brace to dig harder into her skin until she felt a searing pain as she fell to the ground. Duncan had seen this twice; this painful scene that caused his heart to break slightly but she would always stand up and yell at anyone with a smile on their face and carry on their day; typical, lovely, stubborn Frost. He hoped one day he could be like her; as stubborn yet as smart as anything (though he doubted the smart bit. He walked away from school with only a small handful of GCSE's and even those grades weren't all that good but she assured him many times working with the Police was about attitude rather then knowledge). Once they had boarded the Durandle, Duncan writing down a few things, along with times and dates about their location, he wondered whether they were really on the tail of the Serial Killer they had been looking for, for what seemed like months though it had only been a few weeks. The killer dubbed himself the Other Hand of God, while Frost just gave him a number; number eight. He didn't know what the number meant, nor did he really ask. He didn't like prying into her, asking her for reasons when he didn't have to know. She told him to ask suspects and even victims anything that came to mind but he couldn't ask the woman he respected more then anyone in the world anything that came to mind. Not ever.

When the launch stopped and opened its side, Frost was the first one to leave, complaining angrily about the short yet steep ramp she had to walk down to one of the poor Durandle workers. '_Are you guys trying to ruin my legs even more? Geez, anyone can slip off this. Not very thoughtful to those who can't walk well, are you_?' which was her typical reaction to any crime scene that wasn't in her favour. To Frost, she _owned_ the Crime Scenes. They were _her_ territory to search through; to nosy about and no one else would get in her way. If she wanted to complain about something then she had every right to. She didn't get shy, or embarrassed, even if her demands were unusual; all the time anything she demanded was necessary. She wouldn't ask if it hadn't have been. The poor black headed man clad in an orange uniform just shuffled from foot to foot, before offering her assistance, which she replied to with '_Well I've got one damn step left and I'll be taking that with my good left so you're far too slow, aren't you_?' she had a delicate voice, at least most of the time. She was soft and well spoken unless something like that really annoyed her. Her voice would still be soft but there'd be this tone on the edge of it that people couldn't deny. Even her eyes flashed in such a way that caused someone to talk a small step back if she was annoyed. Everything was getting to her that night; the lack of sleep in ages; the stupid launcher that had the worst ramp ever and she knew the interview with Gaignun Kukai wasn't going to go well either. No one on the team really wanted a spitfire from Kukai. He had already complained to them when the fifth victim had been murdered, and now he had _nearly_ been the seventh. The man was most likely fuming.

Following Frost close behind, he gave a small smile to the man whose head she had just bitten off. All the stranger could do was look about like a lost puppy. As they went down the small, slopped, escalator, the pair was immediately greeted by other cops along with a few workers for the Durandle. Frost glanced at her co-workers, smiling at their familiar faces with her soft eyes again; the anger she had held earlier quickly having disappeared from her mind. They had heard her, of course; they always heard her. She was a small little woman; dinkier then all the other people there, but she was perhaps the largest personality wise. It was true; big things come in small packages. As she walked towards them, she looked like a fragile little thing that could snap at any moment with her skinny figure, but her aura was strong.

"What's the situation?" she asked no one in particular, nudging Duncan slightly with her right crutch. Nodding, he opened the notebook, pulling the lid from the pen to write things down. Sighing, she shook her head and nodded at the tape recorder. "_Record_ what people say and what you think in private matters. _Write_ what the evidence says to you and anything you find peculiar you can't say aloud," she instructed, causing the rookie to blush slightly as he closed the book and brought out the recorder. In a click, the tape was rolling; recording anything said. The first person to answer her question was the biggest cop; Vincent Cerise as he was called. He had greying black hair, a slightly too round face that was scattered with dark stubble; his eyes sunken, coloured chocolate and ringed with dark bags. She wasn't the only one suffering the lack of sleep since number Eight entered the scenes. Leaning against the crutches that ached her little arms, though the ache was far in her mind after so many months, she listened intently while allowing her eyes to scan across the Durandle. Two launch boards, one they had used; just the Elsa docked; all the things she noted. Had the killer even escaped yet?

"Master Gaignun was sat in his office," he began with his rough voice that sounded like he had swallowed white spirits. To Frost's right, she could see the rookie glancing from the tape recorder to the man talking, rather then absorbing the area around, which Frost considered part of the crime scene. He should have been observing as well; he could listen to the words later if he hadn't heard them properly but he _couldn't_ see the faces of the men again or how the area looked then and there. She wanted to grab his attention but doing such a thing was rude. This was important; she could tea him later but she had to keep her mind on the crime scene rather then her rookie. "At half past twelve this morning, he heard what he could only describe as a faint scratching. Immediately, he could smell petrol emitting from his sleeping quarters, which is just in the room next door. When he stood up to see what was wrong he noted the bedroom door was open but there was no one there, save for a small cross pendant on the bed pillow, which was when he immediately made a call to the security guards," the cross pendant on a bed pillow was the calling card of the murderer. He had left it for each of his victims, and Frost had released this information to the public, hoping to save their lives. Luckily; this time, it had.

"What time was the call made?" she questioned with her evenly toned work voice. Her eyes had momentarily looked into the sleeping ones of Cerise, before curiously looking back at the launch pads and then to the Elsa. Her brows furrowed as she found the curiosity welling in her veins again.

"Twelve-forty-four, ma'am," he replied politely.

"Took him fifteen minutes to make the call?" she questioned, with her frown deepening from such a curious statement. All Cerise did was shrug his shoulders nonchalantly; obviously unsure of how to answer her question. Titling to the left and right on her crutches, she nodded over to the launchers. "How many were there before we arrived?"

"Just one, ma'am," answered a short Durandle worker for her. Nodding she began to walk about the small docking area, looking at the transit machine to take them to other areas of the Durandle.

"I need records," she began, looking over at Cerise who she trusted to gather the information she needed the most. "Of when that was used," she nodded at the transit machine; unsure of its name. "All the times within the last twenty-four hours. I need the names of people that used the launchers; when and where," she finished, which Cerise nodded at firmly. He wasted no time to grab one of the Durandle workers and headed up the elevator with him to where the information would be stored. Turning to the remaining men, Frost began to speak some more. "Are their guards all over the Durandle?" she questioned, which to this they nodded. Before she even looked at the room where the cross had been left, her mind was firmly working. "Search the perimeters around the outside of the Durandle; the buildings. Even the water. There's a chance our killer slipped through a window at some point. Possibly how he got in too. Doubt he works here…" she muttered, watching as they began to follow her orders. Looking at the Durandle worker near the elevator she gestured for him to come to her and Duncan. When he did, she smiled sweetly as usual; her eyes brightening. "And finally; need you to take us up to Gaignun Kukai, dear," she said with a grin. He nodded solemnly.

"Hey, boss!" Duncan suddenly called; waving his arm in the air to grab her attention. He was ever so energetic and emotional with his hand movements. He had so much body language it was _harder_ to read him, which was ever so strange. When she turned to him with her bright blue eyes, he stopped moving his arms; letting them float up in the air. "What makes ya' think 'e don't work for the Durandle?"

Smiling, with her answers deep in her heart, she replied calmly; "Because the last few murders were on Second Miltia, while the Durandle, including the Elsa had been docked at the Foundation. Times remember, Duncan. Numbers and dates are thinks you need to remember. You can turn the tape recorder off now. Get your pen and notebook out and grab some gloves."

* * *

Panting hard from the running he had just done, Nikolai Abaddon pushed his bony back into the cold building's wall. He gulped in air, not feeling the oxygen fill his lungs let alone enter his blood stream that was being pumped quickly around his body from his sped up heart. To the left of him, he could hear the wheezing of his overweight companion, who had struggled to keep up with the slender man as he darted through the Foundation's streets faster then a wolf. Abaddon hiked before spitting into the ground, feeling his throat so cold like he had swallowed a dozen glasses of ice, but his body; the centre of it, was set aflame from the running they had just done. Abaddon knew running so quickly was not necessary. He had made it out of Gaignun Kukai's quarters without being noticed at all, but it was just a shame he _had_ been noticed at the beginning. But still, Abaddon wouldn't dwell on such silly matters. On the good side they had gotten away and that was all that mattered. He hadn't done what he wanted to; he hadn't given his friend, Thom, what he wanted but he could. Next time. Next time as he promised; there would be a next time and that next time they would be satisfied. In the corner of his ears he could he a click, followed by a hissing noise of gas escaping a can of pop. Such a noise had gotten used to after being in Thom's company for so long. The man never stopped drinking cold, ice cold coke, sugared not diet, and ate and ate and ate. That day Abaddon had counted that he had four desserts, while he hadn't even touched one meal. It could be seen as well; Thom's stomach plumper then even that police officer's called Cerise. But Abaddon didn't comment on it; if the younger man enjoyed eating so then let him. He was in his mid thirties, Abaddon guessed. He looked older however, but Abaddon knew that weight and poor diet added to anyone's age. He hadn't asked for his age before. He was far younger then Abaddon, who was in his early fifties with short black hair that had begun to grey hear and there. His face still looked young, with a scar going just from his left eye down to his chin. The colour of his skin was as pale as snow that looked even paler somehow in the nights light of the stars that illuminated the hollows of his cheekbones, along with the shape of his squared jaw. Laugh lines tickled the edges of his firm lips, along with some wrinkles at the edges of his eyes, which were strange to Thom. They were the most unusual shade of azure; almost transparent on his white eyes. Yes, ever so strange; ever so sharp like a pair of daggers. They stared often, deep in thought; whatever his thoughts might be. It would surprise Thom if _anyone_ knew what he was thinking. The older man was tall, perhaps just over six feet, and wore dark clothes; black trousers, along with a leather black jacket and underneath that was a turtle neck, grey jumper. He had other clothes in their vehicle, but his style stayed the same; dark and drab, simple to stay in the shadows. Or, as Sly Thom thought, to _be _the shadows. That made sense if he wanted to _be_ them; he certainly acted like them. The man was ever so quiet and serene, stating anything that would shock or excite others with no emotion, like he was stating the weather. Opposite to Thom in every way. Thom was shy; a shaky, nervous character like a boy in a mans body. He panicked about things that Abaddon did; worried for their safety and anything really. He settled for food all of the time; seeking comfort in candy bars, peanut butter jars and mouthfuls of mouth watering coke. Oh, thinking about it then he wanted a candy bar so badly…so as they regained their breath he ate one. Okay, _two_.

"What are we going to do now?" Thom asked after his wheezing fit; long minutes after Abaddon had regained his breath. The older man was gazing up at the night sky thoughtfully; his hands carefully at his sides; the edge of his right arm pushing against his weapon he could feel inside the leather jacket pocket.

"Move onto the next," he replied calmly; his eyes glistening from the stars lights.

"Will we be going back to him?" Thom questioned; his voice like a little child's that was about to break into tears. He _really_ wanted that one. Abaddon could _feel_ that he could and like he promised, he would.

"Of course. We never leave a job unfinished. That would be most ungraceful…"

"Think that cop's there…?" Thom questioned almost dreamily as he began to chug down the can of coke; feeling the bubbling refreshment run down his throat deliciously. He felt a little tingling sensation run from the bottom of his stomach to his heart; a warm stream that wasn't from the drink. It was thinking of that cop; that little, pretty cop.

Abaddon didn't have to ask who; he knew who Thom was talking about but for his own self pleasure somewhere he just had to open his lips to speak. "The pretty girl with jet coloured hair?" his voice was soft as usual; his eyes possibly remembering how she looked. In the corner of his eyes he could see Thom nodding almost enthusiastically. Abaddon knew it; he had known it for a few weeks now; since they had started following her. She was the first person to land at their first murder. She hobbled along like a butterfly without its legs but despite her injury, she was graceful as she could be. A little blind to her own safety, as Abaddon had noticed, which would work in their favour as they watched her, but she was a good girl as far as he could tell. Little hot headed now and then, especially when it came to her leg (Crazed Thom thought of her injury to be an advantage to him and his wishes). Unlike Thom, Abaddon knew everything about the girl; her name, birthday, age and everything. He had a little file about her in the car he knew he would have to burn soon. Just in case. He should have done it before really. Truthfully, he didn't even need the file. He already knew everything without it. Just in case, as he always said. Placing his hands into his pocket, he pulled out fresh gloves, sliding them over his pale hands before turning to Thom. "Let's go," he told him, though where they'd go neither of them really knew. Or Abaddon did know; Thom wouldn't have guessed. Not even Sly Thom knew.

"Where you goin?" Thom asked; chewing another candy bar in the process.

"Home."

* * *

Sparkling emerald eyes of Gaignun Kukai were staring down at her legs; or more like leg, after having stared at her crutches that were causing her pale arms to become red where they had been pushing against her flesh. Not that she cared, _much_. The burning sensation on her injured flesh wasn't a shock to her, or a foreign feeling; she even knew his mind would be spinning about, wondering how and why she had managed to work her way up to being a Detective. Perhaps he was even disgusted that such an injured woman was the one leading the case, where one little false step could get him murdered. Or almost got him murdered; whichever way one wanted to look at it. The young woman was sat upon the couch in his office, which seemed to hold everyone; even a snooker table. Duncan couldn't help but comment earlier how he wished their offices were like that; it would have made work much more fun, which was when Frost told him work wasn't fun to which he didn't reply to. In the notebook he had drawn out a small map of the office, which had a door to it that lead to the bedroom where the scent of petrol had emitted from, which was rather peculiar. The door was to the left of the desk, on the same wall Gaignun would have had his back to as he worked, meaning if number Eight wanted to murder him he could have done quiet easily with a bullet, but of course Frost knew the man wanted to take his victims down in style. From the ways his other victims had been brought to their end, he took his time with everything; precision being the key. Without even having met the man, she knew 'patience is a virtue' would be one of his favourite sayings. Duncan had marked out every exit on the map, from the windows to the doors but nothing seemed to have been used. Before Frost had sat down on the black coloured couch, she and the rookie had dusted about the office and bedroom for fingerprints; searching for anything from fibres to just _something_ that didn't belong there but as usual there was no evidence; absolutely nothing to point to who the man was that nearly murdered Gaignun. Shuffling on the couch, she finally pulled her crutches from under her arms to rest beside her. Her braced leg was in front of her; as straight as a pin. Duncan was stood in front of her with the map in his hand; observant eyes in his sockets, which pleased Frost. On her lap she opened her notepad, curling some hairs behind her ear before she looked up to Gaignun Kukai. He had unusual body language; his arms were to his sides and she didn't think she had seen him shiver once. Nothing shone in his eyes, no emotion or anything. Those eyes were still staring at her leg before scanning up her body. He had asked to see her badge twice; obviously not believing how she was a Detective. She was young. Very young; at least to his eyes. Breaking him from his thoughts, she gestured to the chair opposite her.

"May I ask you some questions, please, Mister Kukai?" she questioned as softly as she could. She actually refused to call him the silly name of 'Master Gaignun'. That was just uncalled for. Obediently, he nodded, before striding over to the chair she had nodded to where he sat. For a moment he shuffled in his seat, before placing his hands placidly on his knees; his eyes grazing deep into her blue ones. Behind her, she could hear the footsteps of Duncan as he continued to search for any evidence. Like a dog with a bone, she thought. That's a good boy. "You say that…at half twelve this morning you heard a scratching, followed by a smell of petrol?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. She had such a beautiful tone to her voice that Gaignun's eyes couldn't help but soften. His eyes drifted down to her left hand that was clutching the edge of the notebook, noting the ring wrapped around her wedding finger. He managed to nod. But when he nodded, she noticed he blinked twice; a sign he wasn't even sure of his answer. Leaning down, she wrote this in her book, along with the fact she had noticed him unconsciously cross his legs along with his arms; a movement that could either mean deception or a defence. He was hiding something; something that she knew would be important.

"I'm assuming it was half twelve," he began calmly; his voice so tranquil it was like nothing had really happened. Her fears early of having her ear nagged off by the man were obviously in vain. He didn't seem at all bothered, save for that body language, which didn't quite add up with his tone. "I had glanced at the clock at twelve twenty five and when I heard the noise I suppose it hadn't have been five minutes."

"I see," she nodded, raising a black brow. "How long did it take you to stand up and check the bedroom?"

"Not even a minute," he replied. Two blinks; eyes looking to the left suddenly. Lies. "I was worried, of course and when I saw the cross I immediately called for security."

"At twelve forty four?" she asked, though she knew the answer; she just wanted to know whether he knew the answer or not. The man with identical shaded hair nodded, tapping his knee with his left hand. The lights above them reflected against his wedding ring. Nodding at his hand, she questioned him as casually as possible. "How long have you been married?" she wanted to take his mind away from the scene to allow him to think over what he had said, just in case he had missed something. Something happened within those fifteen minutes that she and Duncan would _need_ to know.

"Four years," he replied; his eyes brightening as he thought of his wife, forgetting about the situation; just like she wanted him to do. "Yourself?" he couldn't help but ask, looking down at her own hand. Laughing as gently as possible, she shook her head. Even when she stopped laughing, it was as if it echoed about her, having lit up the room and the atmosphere magically.

"Engaged," she told him with a sweet smile. "Only for a few months," he nodded informatively to this as she tilted her head to the side gently. "What's the name of your wife?"

"Faith," he replied. She asked him where she was at the moment and he told her calmly; "Just in the other room. She's sleeping at the moment."

"She doesn't stay with you in these quarters?" she asked, nodding to the bedroom as she found it a peculiar thing. Didn't all married couples sleep together? Or was it just going to be her and her soon to be husband? Well, she hoped at least. It would be expensive to get another house with an extra bedroom for them. Even being a Detective didn't pay all that well…

The man opposite her paused for a few moments, which caused a frown to grow on her face though she quickly brushed it away and continued to smile sweetly. His eye contact broke for a moment before he replied to her question. "We normally stay in a home in the Foundation. She wanted to wait for me until we went home but didn't wish to disturb me so she stayed with her friend Lock, who's just down the hallway. Cassidy Lockhart," he told her the name, causing Frost to unconsciously write it down, along with the information. Was it really a coincidence that his wife had left the room the night Gaignun was appointed to be killed? Or was it not? Something didn't add up. Something weird was going on.

"What time did she leave?" she asked, swallowing a yawn as she did. Goodness she wanted her bed so badly… "And does this happen often?"

"She left at around half eleven," he replied. Another odd time. Wouldn't the average worker be asleep by around half eleven? If it was Frost, she'd be a little irritated for being woken up. "And no. Not often. Normally she stays in the quarters if she wants to leave me," he continued; his eyes blinking only once. The only thing she had truly believed. "There's nothing strange about it," he assured her. "Faith and Lock have been good friends for years; I never thought it to be peculiar," his sentence only caused Frost to nod. To her everything was curious; everything had to have an answer or a meaning, even though sometimes they didn't. But that could be a reason in itself. Faith staying with Lock could be a reason to make her head think to the point it flashed up another idea. Thinking was never bad.

"Okay," she began, looking down at her notes. "At about half eleven Faith left you alone to work, where she stayed with her friend Lock. About one hour later she heard a faint scratching noise followed by the scent of petrol," petrol…how…peculiar. Few vehicles ran on petrol; very, very few. "You then entered the bedroom, which was when you found the cross and proceeded to call security. Correct?"

"Corrected," he repeated with a short nod. Behind her, with his hands leaning against the couch, Duncan was frowning slightly; picking up on something strange. Before she had a chance to ask another question, he interrupted them both; unable to hold himself back from what he wanted to know that had grown in his chest since he heard the cop say it earlier.

"How come it took ya' so long ta call the guards?" Duncan almost casually asked, with his brows furrowed almost gently on his forehead. Frost raised her brows as she felt a little shock of embarrassment from his sudden question that was strung with his English that didn't like finishing off sentences. Gaignun paused for a moment, looking from left to right as his lips were parted like a fish unsure of how to breathe.

"Like I said…" he began with a slightly lost voice. Frost wrote something down; Duncan leaning down to read what she had wrote about. "It could have been five minutes…or even longer…I don't really remember…" he didn't blink twice but his arms crossed tighter across his chest. Believable. But she'd need to think over it better.

"We understand," Frost told him with another one of her sparkling smiles. "It can be difficult to remember such things when this has happened," she sighed, closing her notebook. With a click, she closed the pen before placing both of the items on the couch. In her peripheral vision she could see Duncan grab the notebook with his monstrously large hands as she took her crutches. Struggling only a little, she had managed to stand to her feet; Gaignun standing up straight after her. With a little wince from pain shooting up her sore arms, she looked back up to Gaignun who stood far above the little, bone thin woman. "We can issue a guard for you if you wish. Or put you under witness protection; whichever you'd be more comfortable with."

"Neither," he told her with a slight smile, which caused her to frown deeply. The man wanted no safety? Did the night's events affect him at all? Just as she parted her lips to question what he meant by that, the door suddenly slid open; causing Frost's eyes to widen in mixed pure frustration and slight fear. The last thing they needed was another person contaminating the crime scene, but the woman who had stunning red hair was too fast for her to stop. The woman, who was far taller then Frost, with darker skin and a more toned body shape, crashed into Gaignun with a large hug, who immediately wrapped his arms back around. It didn't take her a moment to know who the woman was; Faith, his wife who looked just a few years younger then Frost. She couldn't see the wedding ring but someone wouldn't act like that.

"My God," she breathed heavily into his chest; refusing to let go like her arms were made of steel. Frost took a step back from their hugging, waiting for her to finish her speech. Glancing at Duncan, she nodded to him; signalling to write anything down. For now, he would be her recorder; noting down anything either of them would find peculiar. She just prayed he would do a fine job. "They just told me what happened! Are you okay? Is everything alright? What's going on?" she asked the questions; the last one she asked when she finally pulled his head from his chest, glancing at Frost and Duncan. Her dark blue eyes, mixed with gold (a shade that reminded her of the Realians eye colours) stayed on her body for a little too long. Her legs; as usual. "Detectives?" she questioned with a breathless voice, which Frost nodded at. With that, the woman seemed to have snapped and pulled from her husband suddenly; raising her fist as if she were about to throttle Frost. Frowning, she dropped her crutch; wasting no time to grab her gun with her left hand, which was quickly put ahead of her; the barrel pointing to the woman who had frozen in her actions; Gaignun's hands having moved to grab her wrists so tightly that even without the gun she wouldn't have been able to do anything. In her eyes Frost could see the rage shinning through; uncontrollable rage and where it emitted from she knew. She would have been livid for them not having protected her husband a lot. 'Yes, it _is_ our fault for not knowing who number Eight goes for,' Frost sarcastically thought as she lowered her weapon, knowing she was safe. But still, even with the weapon in her hands the woman hadn't backed down; the only thing preventing her from attacking Frost was Kukai.

"You _almost killed him_!" the redheaded woman screamed loudly, causing Frost to wince. Damn she had a deafening voice. "You shouldn't even be a Detective! Can't even look after yourself let alone other people. You're supposed to be doing your job!" Her raging eyes glanced down at her now shaking legs that weren't used to having to stand with little support; her bones becoming weak but Frost didn't bother reaching for the crutch; she'd keep herself strong, no matter what people thought or said.

Biting her lip, Frost kept her own tempers under control; utterly furious for this woman to down her so badly. "I think you should calm down now or we can take you to the Station if you'd rather," she calmly explained, watching the brows of the woman furrow. She hissed another swearword at the woman before being taken out of the room by Gaignun, who was apologising for her behaviour. Groaning, Frost placed her gun back in her holster before Duncan rushed to her side; passing her the crutch she had dropped. "Silly woman…" she whispered, leaning on both the crutches; just in time too. She felt like she was going to fall to the ground. Sighing she turned to Duncan. "Got all we needed?"

"Got it all," he replied, causing her to smile brightly. "We headed off now, boss? Think you could do with a break. When was the last time you slept?"

"Years ago," she laughed; her eyes brightening as she did. Duncan smiled in a reply.

"Bet your fiancés home by now," he assured, knowing full well her fiancé worked just as hard as he did; spending most of his time with his work colleagues and his business. Busy, busy man. Shame he didn't remember his name, or the business he was in. From his words, Frost smiled in a different way; excitement running through her veins.

"Hope so. Really, I do hope so."

**Comments:** It always seems shorter on FF despite how big it looked when I was writing it on word... :/ oh well xD Enjoy x


	2. Here in Your Arms

**P a r a d i s e C i r c u s **

**chapter two**

**Here in Your Arms**

**Comments:** quick chapter; few mistakes here and there but nawr well xD hopefully there should be more from me lately - I have like four nights home alone so until my bestest comes over I'll be bored out my mind so WRITTING IT SHALL BE 8D enjoy and there will be xenoness in the next chapter. hopefully more peeved of Marion too; i doubt she'll be happy with the arrangment xD ahem anywhoo xxxx

When Frost had finally arrived home, with the notebooks and the tape recorder all underneath her arms, she immediately dropped them onto the double bed in the lit bedroom. The spray of the shower in the bathroom next door could be heard the moment she stepped into the home, causing the little smile on her face she had kept since thinking her fiancé would be home to grow. He was home; just like she wanted. He had left early in the morning to go do work at the shop; moving from there to the workshop to the business meetings he had in his other job. Hard work, she knew it was; but they both did hard work, which made them more sympathetic to one another's stresses. It worked better then her other relationships, where because she was always working on cases the man would go berserk and think she was cheating or something utterly nuts like that, which was when she left them straight away but with her fiancé, who she couldn't deny was a few years older then her (more then a few – give or take twice her age, not that it mattered really), everything was fine. They always had new things to talk about; were more excited to see one another especially after such long days. It was fantastic; the best relationship she had and she felt like a school girl with a crush half of the time she was with him; her nerves always getting the better of her. He owned a store on the outskirts of town; a clock shop he had for pretty much most of his life. He sold handmade pocket watches, clocks and all sorts of things, along with the odd antique clock here and there but mostly if he came across them he'd keep them for himself. He loved time; it was his passion. He was an artistic, clever man; able to create any watch from gears; along with decorate them himself in the workshop. Everything was done by hand; made from scratch which amazed her. Even after knowing him for half a dozen years he didn't stop telling her stories about the past; where time had come from, quoting things and letting her learn what she wouldn't have ever known in her life. That was what she loved truly about him; his knowledge, how interesting he was. She loved when he got so far into a conversation and his words were running from his mouth like water from an open faucet; his arms and hands would take up their own actions; flying through the air like Duncan did only far more gracefully. His eyes (that were similar to her strange hue) would brighten more then the sun could; dazzle with his excitement. And then, unfortunately, when he thought he was annoying her, he switched out those lights and went back to his calm, serene and thoughtful self. She enjoyed that side of him too; always curious of how he paused for so long to collect information to make up sentences. He was a thoughtful, ever so thoughtful man who found meaning in everything and anything he did; even if it was buy a simple flower for his fiancé. If she was sad, he would buy her a yellow one to brighten her mood or a pink one to calm her down; colour psychology. It was something she had learnt before in her studies but she hadn't expected him to know it. But he knew everything it seemed. Absolutely everything and it was amazing. As she continued to think of him, she sat on the edge of the bed, letting out a long sigh as her small fingers went around the bolt that held the brace where it was. Her crutches casually banged as they fell on the ground, Frost not caring for them one bit. All she cared about was that damn bolt. Twisting it to the left, the metal cold to her touch, she felt a relieving feeling over come her as the brace loosened. Pain soon followed as her leg bent, like a normal leg would have done, but it caused her agony. She had absolutely no control over it, nor could she even lean on it but still; it hurt like hell when her knee bent after being straight. If someone were to touch it too hard or bend it there would be sheer agony. Putting her hand underneath her knee, she kept it straight as she placed the brace neatly on the wooden floor, near her crutches to be used tomorrow. The brace wasn't necessary anymore; she knew she wouldn't heal but still it kept that pain away. Only for her fiancés sake would she remove it before sleeping (she knew no one would want to cuddle up with cold metal) even though many a time he asked her not to, knowing the pain it caused. On her white flesh were the marks where the metal had dug into her skin; scarring her by then. 'Lovely…' she sighed, rubbing the sore flesh with her left hand; her right one still holding it.

When she finally heard the shower stop running, her heart began to fly a little; butterflies emerging in her stomach. She didn't feel sleepy anymore, despite the lateness of the night, but she still felt the urge to find out what Gaignun Kukai had done during those fifteen minutes; those minutes would be everything to the case. Or nothing; she never really knew when statements were concerned but it could be anything. She had to know, she just had to! And she had to stop thinking – just for one moment. One moment so she could go in bed and sleep. Pushing herself back, she moved along the bed with beautiful red sheets, until she came to the pillows. The pain had gone from her leg, which was now spread out against the soft sheets; keeping her knee straight, and her back felt o-so lovely being against the fluffed pillows. Everything was ever so lovely then; little moments when she was out of the bitter fog of work and in the light of home, where her bones could be comforted along with her heart. Glancing around her bedroom, she noted the two glass desks, one with a computer; the other covered in her paper work, along with a few bookshelves; half of the books were crammed with law, psychology and some fiction, while the others were art books; horology (which was what her fiancé was passionate about – the study of the history of time), along with a few religious books here and there that they both used. Why he used them Frost wasn't really sure, but if he enjoyed them that was good enough for her. There was another door, just near the bed, leading to the closest (where thinking about it some of her fiancés clothes had gone missing but she assumed she left them in the workshop or places when he went on business trips) and almost on every shelf or desk or anything, was a pocket watch. She had one herself he had made for her, ticking away on the bed side table beside her book. It was silver with roman numerals on the face, along with a moon window for decoration. On the back he had professionally carved patterns of stars and constellations for her; the beautiful night sky in the silver (or platinum – she couldn't remember what the material was). Thinking of the watch, she reached over to grab it delicately, making sure not to harm the work of art he had created for her. The chain brushed against the back of her hand, the metal cold against her skin. Smiling a little, she watched the needle swinging back and forth as the seconds went by. Beneath the tips of her fingers she could feel the carvings; his hard work. Just as she was about to put it back down, she saw the door slid open, causing her smile to widen. Immediately, the azure eyes of Nikolai shot to her; his silk black hair having been pushed behind his head. He wore nothing, save for the towel wrapped around his waist. His firm muscles were dripping with water and she smirked slightly; seeing more water drip from his hand. His thin lips had curled into a smile and he wasted no time to get to her side; sinking those lips into her sweet smelling black locks. She smiled as his large, soft as silk hand ran across her bare arms; slipping into his. His skin was still damp from the shower, causing her to smirk. Before she had a chance to say hi, he was nibbling at the base of her neck; tickling her furiously. Evil, evil man; he knew that with her legs she couldn't escape. Wriggling and grabbing his arms, she began to furiously laugh, feeling the weight of the job lift from her shoulders just from him.

"Nikolai!" she whined, pinching his skin slightly. She could hear him hiss into her skin from the slight pain but that didn't stop him. As he ran a hand over her waist, where her belt was, he felt the lump of her gun still tucked away neatly, which caused him to stop. Lowering his head, he looked down at her waist before taking the gun from its resting place with his right hand. His other hand was still interlocked with hers, smoothing over her skin gently. "Abaddon," she quickly said; still used to having to use second names. "Gimme!" she reached for the gun like a child wanting their candy. He smiled slightly, before putting the gun on the bed side table. The older man clicked his tongue almost disapprovingly though she could see the twinkle in his eyes.

"Little bit dangerous to sleep with a gun, isn't it?" he asked, sitting himself down on the bed. His right hand went onto the sheets on the other side of her body; his large, muscular structure hovering over her petite one.

"I forgot about it," she smirked, looking him deep in the eyes: the eyes of the man that had almost killed Gaignun Kukai that night but of course, she didn't have a clue. Frost knew nothing. The smile faded from his face to be the serene expression he always gave but she could see the love for her in his eyes. "How was your day?" her voice soft and gentle.

He paused for a moment, contemplating things before answering her with just as soft a tone. "Disappointing but disappointment always leads to better things," he told her, reaching down to her right leg with his soft hand. As gently as possible, he ran his fingers across her skin, feeling the damaged flesh beneath that couldn't be seen. She had feeling above the middle part of her thigh, granting them an activity in bed during the nights, though that hadn't been his concern when he found out about her injury. He had seen the before and after; her before when she ran everywhere, where she was more herself and her after. Not much had changed mentally for her, but he knew it had to have hurt her somehow. That was why the man who did it to her was dead. Nikolai being the murderer of course but Frost never knew. No one knew which was why he was able to touch her leg then and there. She could feel his fingers slightly but her skin didn't quiver like it would do when he touched her in different places. The leg was a curse; only there to cause her pain. "How was your day? Did you get any closer to finding the Other Hand of God?" of course she hadn't. He had known what her day was like; Thom had stalked her for most of it. Nikolai wouldn't let the man get close enough to hurt her though. He would keep his hunger at bay, feeding him with different women but not his fiancé. He wouldn't allow her to be hurt. Even though he was trying to stop Thom from stalking her, he was disgusted in himself for letting it happen.

"No where close," she sighed hard, frowning as she became deep in thought. For a moment they stayed in silence; beads of water running down Abaddon's chest to be absorbed by the towel. "Gaignun Kukai nearly got killed today," she told him, seeing a little bit of shock in his eyes. Oh he was a good actor! He knew he was.

"Gaignun Kukai?" he repeated with disbelief in his tone. Frost smirked before nodding her head.

"Yep, the Gaignun Kukai," she replied. "The man that the Foundation's supposed to be crazy about. I don't get why. There's nothing special about him," she ground out a large sigh, turning her head as her mind began to work. "He's a damn liar too. It apparently took him fifteen minutes to call security," she explained, feeling Nikolai's hands running across her body where she could feel it; attempting to relax her.

"Time can be tricky, deceiving," he told her as softly as possible. "It's not a reliable one. Well, in some respects it is, but how it _feels_ isn't reliable. Have you ever felt water so cold or so hot that you can't really tell which is which?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. Frost nodded in reply to his question; her mind still partially in thought. "Time can be like that. You think it flows by smoothing and consistently but it didn't give you that feeling. Do something you like, it feels as if it's going faster. Do something you dislike, it feels as if it is going slower. Explain to me what happened."

"Half twelve he heard a scratching, smelt petrol," she told him casually, not knowing what was going on was because of her fiancé; the last person she would look to. He had to admit he didn't like deceiving her but she would never know it was him; he was too clever, especially now as he had the information the victim had told her. Everything was helpful. But it was odd he said he smelt petrol; Nikolai nor Thom smelt of it that day and he didn't remember making a scratching noise. He was just putting the cross on the pillow when he heard footsteps coming to the door, which was when he knew he had to make his escape. He did; jumped out the window onto a bridge going across the waters of the Foundation. Ran between the streets with Thom before splitting up and coming home for a shower, which was when Frost came back. "He said he immediately went to check it out, and then made the call to the guards. But the call wasn't until sixteen minutes to one this morning; fifteen minutes after he said this happened."

"Did you ask him the last time he looked at the clock?" he questioned, finally able to catch her eyes with his when she turned her head back towards him. Frost nodded.

"He said that he last saw the time at about twenty five past twelve," she replied. "He said he only had a little bit of work done before all that happened."

"That little bit could have taken a long time," Nikolai told her. It made sense; at least to him. He had left the room between twenty to and quarter to one, around when Gaignun checked everything out and phoned the guards. It added up; just a shame he was a liar. "Sleepy, a lot on his mind; time may not have been working in his favour."

"True," she replied, knowing that it could have took longer then he thought. She sighed before shaking her head. "Something seemed _off_ about him though. He's definitely hiding something, Nick and something big. The way he acted…He seemed so nonchalant about the entire thing. His wife was more upset then he was," she groaned loudly, shaking her head as he patiently watched her. "There was another rape victim today too. Smile Bakery; the woman that works there. I don't know whether it's one person or more then that. Seems like I'm the reason the Foundation and Second Miltia are falling apart…" she whispered; vulnerability that she rarely showed lingered in her eyes. This wasn't what Nikolai wanted. She wasn't a failure. It wasn't her fault.

"Don't talk like that," he said, hushing her gently and kissing her cheek a number of times. "Everything that goes on isn't your case, don't forget. Come on," he whispered, reaching down to kiss her neck far more tenderly then he had done before. And with that, she found herself drifting into their world; the world of Marion and Nikolai and them only. Too bad she didn't know Nikolai's entire world.

They had fallen asleep, tangled together in the late hour of three in the morning, and not too long after six, Nikolai was sleepily helping Frost to her feet with the crutches. In a morning haze, she took her shower (sitting down of course), dried her hair that curled messily above her head and little did she care, before applying her makeup and dressing into another pair of black shorts, along with a white dress shirt with a silk black tie; the top button of the shirt undone as usual with her collar neatly down. Wrapping her hair behind her head, she used a white ribbon and finally clipped her ID badge onto her breast pocket; her weapon placed in the holster on her belt. While she got ready, Nikolai helped in the background, putting her notebook along with her tape recorder in a bag. He hadn't checked them over; he didn't really need to. They wouldn't be all that helpful; she had already told him what happened and of course, Frost wouldn't lie. He handed her the black bag with a small smile, telling her how much he'd miss her during the day, which she replied to in more then kind. Before leaving, she slipped on a pair of ankle black boots (she couldn't ever where knee length because of that stupid brace), kissed Nikolai on the cheek and wished him a good day, before walking out of the house. Or hobbling; whichever way she felt like putting it that day. Waiting outside for her, in his black car as usual, was Duncan; his eyes bright when he saw her approach. He waved to Nikolai before he shut the door, and checked the time; just after seven in the morning. They were going good so far, time wise. They wouldn't be going so good when he told her the bad news that he had. Jumping in the car, Frost put the crutches on the back seat before strapping in and greeting Duncan warmly. He handed her a vanilla late he had ordered from the coffee place just down in town, which she hugged him for as a thank you.

"Ya' lookin' a tad less sleepy there, ma'am," he smirked, though bags were still under her eyes. He too looked tired as hell but not as bad as yesterday. "Good night?"

"Very," she smiled, obviously not providing details for him. "You?"

"Okay," he replied, starting the car up again. The growl echoed inside the vehicle as he began to drive down the road towards the Station. "Probably not as good as yours," he continued, causing her to smirk slightly as her gaze drifted out of the window. Nikolai Abaddon! He remembered then; the black headed guy that liked pocket watches. Duh. "Got some good news 'n bad news, boss," he informed her, letting out a loud sigh.

"Give me it," she told him, watching as he made a turn.

"Good news," he began with a short smile. She took a sip of the boiling hot latte, enjoying the taste on her tongue along with the slight burning sensation; warmth. "Cerise managed to get that information you needed," he told her, which she simply nodded at. "And the bad news… We gotta protect Master Gaignun."

She felt like spitting out the drink in her mouth as her brows widened. Giving her a quick glance, he could see the rage fuming in her eyes. Slowly, hard, she swallowed the liquid, feeling it burn the back of her throat but she didn't care about such a sensation. "We're…babysitting?" she questioned, feeling her anger well up. No, she couldn't snap at Duncan; she was his boss, he wasn't hers. Haden was her boss and damn he was about to have a mouthful. Growling, she slammed her back into the chair, looking out of the window as she tried to contain her rage she was going to throw at Haden.

Which she did the second she entered the Station; hobbling at just quarter past seven, she marched into his office; furious with rage. Her hands were trembling and as if her rage came off her like a hue of colour people could see, everyone avoided her. Instead of the cheery hellos she got, the entire, quite tired, Station was silent. They either avoided eye contact with her or stared or carried on with their duties. Not one word passed. Utter silence. Duncan was following her close behind, carrying the bag and the latte she had left (not that she could carry the latte anyway with her hand occupied). He knew what was going to happen but he couldn't exactly stop it; he knew it would happen since he had been told about half an hour ago on the phone. He even warned Haden about it; not that he needed warning. She probably had to do other tasks she hated that she had yelled at him for as well. Typical hot headed Frost. In the office, Haden was sat at the brown desk; lights emitting from the blue screens that he used to work with. A cup of coffee was set near his right hand; his hair a messy shade of brown and his face unkempt and unshaven for more then a good week. His clothes were simple; a white shirt along with pin stripe brown trousers with a matching brown tie. In the morning she could smell his fresh scent the moment she stepped in the office, though she knew later he would smell of coffee and all sorts of scents. He had been staring up at one of the screens, reading words with his bland brown eyes; his fat hands tapping at the table, but he made no attempt to move when she entered the office; knowing full well the events that were about to occur. Slamming the door shut, Duncan was prevented from entering the room after her, leaving it to be just the two of them. Her brows were furrowed; her hands trembling as she clutched her crutches so tightly that her knuckles were beginning to turn a shade of snow white.

"What the hell are we babysitting for?" she yelled harshly, hopping over to the front of the desk. He looked up, simply raising a thick brown brow as she let off her steam. Even he knew she hadn't changed on little bit since the accident. "Do we look like babysitters to you? We're working on the fucking case-"

"Which isn't going anywhere," Haden finally countered. She could see his wrinkles creasing on his forehead; he was far older then Nikolai with such a rough voice, she hated it. Growling, she glared as furiously as she could, but before she could speak, Haden spoke first. "I'm getting a criminologist to work with you, Frost."

"Hah!" she laughed hard; her face softening as she shook her head. For long moments she continued to laugh, causing Haden to frown. "A criminologist?" she repeated, with a large smirk. Water was dying to escape her eyes and her lungs were tickling from his words he had said. "One of those that go up to University and hang all their ideas of being a cop on shows like CSI and Criminal Minds? Oh man, this is priceless," she shook her head; her eyes brightening. "Utterly priceless. First you give me a kid who's not even a proper cop and then some douchebag that probably thinks he owns the place because of a degree," she smirked. "Like they mean anything is this world."

"It's obvious you can't handle this case alone," he told her, keeping his voice calm as he attempted to insult her. No way would she be. She trained on Second Miltia, with the best cops in the galaxy and moved down to the Foundation. Hell, she was the only Detective they had on their small little town. But of course it was her fault. She bet it was that damn Mrs Kukai putting her nose in it. Probably why she was supposed to babysit him too.

"Oh yeah," she said softly, nodding her head as she pretended to agree. "It's all, ever so my fault that the murderer is as slippery as a shadow. Indeed it is," she glared angrily now, hissing her next sentence. "All you bastards do is put me down when I do all the work in this place. I'm working on those rape victims too because none of you will, along with training that damn rookie."

"Which is why I think you need a criminologist," he replied to her as calmly as possible. He hadn't meant to insult her. He wanted to put her in a place, what place though he didn't know, but no insult her. She was a great asset to their team, which was why they were bastards to her. They kept her working hard because they needed her to. Selfish, yeah but needed. "Master Gaignun recommended him," she quivered with livid rage again.

"It's because of my legs," she hissed. "Only wants another person because of my fucking legs. He wouldn't stop staring at them; kept asking to see my ID badge. Even people you think that have a lot of grace are nothing but low rats…" she whispered. Still, Haden ignored her rage.

"Frost, we're trying to help you," he told her as gently as possible; seeing her hands trembling from the anger and the weight of her body, despite how light it was. "I can see where you're coming from and understand what you're saying about Gaignun. Hell, he might be that much of a bastard but I'm not going to replace you. Even with what happened you're still our detective. I want to help you. Only for a week. Keep this guy for a week," he almost pleaded before she nodded. Great. Two's company; threes a crowd. Oh, no wait, they'd have Gaignun to make four now. Fuck… "Gaignun will be arriving at half eight with him. His names Travis Hunter; twenty-five years old. He graduated two years ago in University with a Criminologist's degree," he informed her, though she wasn't really paying attention. At least she was older; that was all she cared about really. She liked being older then the others. Duncan was ten years younger then she was; such a little kid but even though Hunter was just three years younger, she could still dub him kid if she wanted to. That would be fun. "Do you want his profile?"

Giving out a small sigh, she nodded. In a moment, he had brought out a brown folder with his name upon it from a draw, obviously knowing she would want it. She had to be one step ahead of everyone. Smiling, she took a seat in front of him at the desk, reaching foreword to take the folder, with her crutches leaning against the chair. She glanced over the pages; where he went for education, noting how he had dropped out of college for a year, where there was a small history of mental health and a note of self-mutilation (severe was added in there). He re-joined a different college, got his BTEC, headed to university and opened his own small business for a year before joining the force. Two kids; both little girls and divorced already. 'Man he's already lived…' she thought to herself. Nothing else really to go over; the only thing that peeked her interest was the self-harm but that didn't matter so much as long as he didn't kill or cut himself on her scenes she'd be fine.

"You're not training him, remember that Frost," Haden reminded her as if he could hear the thoughts in her head about 'her scene'. That was when it hit her; those scenes wouldn't be hers anymore. She would have to _share_. Holding a growl in the back of her throat, she closed the folder, put her crutches back in her hands and stood up.

"I understand, Sir," she nodded; determination peeking in her eyes. Those scenes would still be hers and the case would be too. She would find number Eight and stop him from killing anyone else. Just as she was about to push the button for it to open, she turned to Haden who was putting the folder away. "What's going on with Kukai? Are we following him around or him following us?"

"He's following you," he replied before letting out a long sigh. "Frost, I'm going to be honest with you…He wants to make sure we're doing our job right. That man doesn't trust us anymore; doesn't trust what we're doing to keep the Foundation safe, yet alone Second Miltia."

"Second Miltia isn't our concern," she replied.

"But it is when our murderer hit there too," he told her solemnly, which caused her to nod. She could see what looked like panic in his boring eyes; worry about their jobs. "He doesn't want protection. He wants to inspect us; make sure we're doing our job right. Look, I don't like this as much as you and I trust you with crime scenes more then anyone. But you do need help just for now. Once this case is closed we'll send Travis Hunter back home, okay?" she nodded firmly. She'd get the case completed; that killer would go to jail for sure. "Your rookie's waiting for you," he told her, nodding at the window where he could see Duncan nosing through. When Frost looked, he waved at her happily, nodding at the latte that had some of her lipstick on it. She smirked before nodding as her way of bowing to Haden. She wished him a good day, before leaving the room, where she was immediately greeted by Duncan in the hallway. She smiled slightly at him as they walked down to their office on the end of the hall.

"What happened?" he asked her inquisitively.

"Guess," she replied, raising a brow to him. "You watched our facial expressions; actions. You're learning to read lips aren't you?" she asked, which he nodded at. "Impress me," she gave him a wide, assuring smile that managed to ease his nerves slightly. He nodded, bobbing his head a little as they entered the office. She sat down at her desk, while he sat at his, leaning foreword with his palms on his knees. She took her latte, resting her crutches against the chair and waited for him to talk.

"Ya laughed," he told her. "Not ya normal laugh. Like ya were laughin' at somethin' Haden told ya. Not sure wha'…hmm…" she sipped at her coffee, which was quickly growing cold but she didn't mind none the less. As he spoke, she turned to the sheet of paper on the desk giving her the times and who the launchers along with the transit machine had been used. She began to run the names on the computer; seeing who looked suspicious and who didn't. They weren't looking for a worker, she reminded herself. "Ya' got angry. He told ya' somethin' bad but he kept calm, cause' somethin's troublin' him…He gave ya' a profile…'nother murder?" she shook her head, staring at the screen. "You'ref not bein' replaced are you, boss?" he suddenly gasped; panic struck in his voice. She let out a little laugh before shaking her head again. "Someone complain about you?"

"Close," she told him, touching the screen with the stylus in her hand.

"He's paired ya' up with someone?" he asked. When she nodded, his eyes beamed with joy though she couldn't see it. She was proud of him though; he was learning, slowly but surely learning.

"Us," she corrected; reminding him that they were the team. "Travis Hunter. He's a criminologist; graduated a couple of years ago. He's got kids so he's probably going to try and take control of you, Duncan. Remember to keep your territory though; this is your Station, your town and not his. But don't jeopardise the case over it. Just don't let him have control."

He nodded at her words, keeping it all locked inside his mind. "What happened with Master Gaignun?"

"He's following us," she told him, always wanting to be honest with her rookie. If she was going to raise him she'd do it honestly and well; he wouldn't be left in the dark. She knew how horrible it was to be left in the dark when other people knew what was going on; she knew it all too well. "He doesn't trust us anymore. The Police Force itself. He's the chairman of the Foundation we're working with so we can't really argue with him there, can we?" she smirked before closing the program she was on. No strange names found on the Durandle. There was one guy suspicious guy but that was it and he wasn't a big enough deal to look over. Sighing, she tapped her fingers on the table, allowing her mind to work. "Any finger prints found from Smile Bakery?"

"None," he replied almost sadly. "Found soda cans, crumbs from cookies and sweet wrappers but none of them had any DNA or prints."

"We know it's serial, right?" she questioned. She knew the answer of course; she wanted to know if he knew. Thankfully, he did and he also knew she was testing him.

"Same food in each area," he replied. "Same way and whatnot. All the same."

Frost nodded and glanced at the time. Today wasn't going to be fun.

* * *

Nikolai Abaddon hadn't told Thom he had a wife-to-be. He hadn't told Thom much really, save for the shop he owned along with the workshop but that was it. He kept his mouth sealed, unlike Thom. Nikolai had learnt he spent time in prison when he was thirteen for sexual abusing his little sister, which then led onto him having counselling but that didn't help, obviously. His problem worsened over the years and he had fun telling Nikolai his victims; what they did, how he liked it, what he liked about what they did and so on. He told him who he was in love with, but Nikolai didn't know the name of that woman. Shion-something. It didn't ring a bell. And then, when he began to thinking of what he had done, the hunger grew and he slipped out those cookies again, munching them off of his gloves hands in the tan coloured vehicle that belonged to Nikolai. Well, not belonged to be exact. It was a little car; belonged to a sweet couple that had dropped off the face of Second Miltia just a few weeks ago before the main murders started. Nikolai had found a few kids toys in the back of the car and made no hesitation to burn them; dumping the ashes in the sea on Second Miltia, where they had got it from. It was easy enough to get over to the Foundation once they had switched licence plates with another car of the exact model they found sitting in the car park of the Port; obviously waiting for its owners to return home. Clever Nikolai sometimes couldn't help but wonder what an amazing team he would make if it were Frost sat beside him rather then Thom, but Thom was nice; he could deal with him easily enough as long as he kept away from Nikolai's Marion. Calmly, with steady hands, he drove through the busy Foundation's streets at eight in the morning, headed in the direction of work where he would clock in, put his assistant, Flynn in charge (saying he had to head to the other shop on Second Miltia, of course) and follow their next victim. For now, they had to move onto the next in line; they couldn't go back to Gaignun Kukai. He wanted more information off Marion anyway, just in case Gaignun was planning something. He couldn't possibly keep watch on two people at once, well he could be it would slow things down and he didn't really trust Thom on his own. He'd help feed that lustful hunger he had for women on the Foundation so he wouldn't even think of his fiancé, but that was it. On Second Miltia they'd have gone different ways to achieve what they wanted. Sometimes Thom would watch their victim while scrupulous Nikolai would investigate their house; making sure everything was put back together or planning what they would do. Here, he had to keep a leash on Thom. Just in case. Nikolai would hate himself if something were to happen to Marion, and if worse came to worse, he would kill Thom for her safety but that wouldn't come to it. He hoped not. As usual, the noise of an opening can echoed through the car, which Nikolai paid no attention to. Instead he casually drove like the average man going about his work; never acting suspicious, never needing to. Everything would go according to plan. Against his hip he could feel his pistol, loaded of course; a gun Marion had given him for his birthday last year. He did hate going against her, he really did, but what she didn't know didn't hurt her. It only hurt him. He wore identical clothes to the previous day; black jeans, the same black leather jacket along with a black shirt underneath; not a turtle neck one like the previous day. Thom was in more casual clothes; a pair of blue jeans, a long sleeved sports football top that supported the same team Nikolai supported (the exact same shirt Nikolai owned too, which Marion loved to steal - just to wear, not because she supported them) and finally, a white baseball cap to cover his chocolate locks. His face was unshaven again, unlike Nikolai's who's was as soft and smooth as silk. Marion wouldn't let him kiss her otherwise, plus he figured it looked better; cleaner. Neater and he liked neat.

When they arrived at the shop, which was just near the small fake lake that led off to the 'ocean', Nikolai turned off the engine of the car and unbuckled his seat belt. He ran a sticky roller over his clothes, checking his pockets were sealed as he did. When he stood up, he rolled it over the seat, just in case his hairs had fallen out, and then handed it to Thom whose gloves were sticky. "I'll shut your door, Thom," Nikolai told him, not wanting the crumbs or possibly saliva from his lips to go on the car. That would be most unfortunate. He'd need to remember to clean that roller handle afterwards too, just in case it transferred. When Thom had stood up, Nikolai did as he said; shut the door and removed his gloves carefully, making sure not to touch the plastic. He threw them in the car park bin, which Thom followed in suit before heading up to the shop.

"Go take a ten minute walk," Nikolai whispered when they were at a distance but Thom could still hear his calm voice. "Meet me outside the Docking Station," he told him, knowing it wasn't far. "Check out next guy is where he should be," Thom nodded and casually scooted off in another direction; them being together unseen by other eyes. Their next was a solder that had recently joined on the Durandle, but whose life would be ending short. He went down to the Foundation each day, ten past eight in the morning to grab a cup of coffee from Nikolai guessed, his favourite café. He was young, perhaps younger then Marion. Strong built. No kids, no girlfriend; no family. He lived in an apartment on Riverside, just north of the Foundation. They had been watching him for a few days now, but he had been on Nikolai's list for over a year. Just as he was about to step into the store he owned, he heard a beep emitting from his side pocket; his main phone used only for work and family (Marion; his only family). He unzipped the pocket, grabbing the mobile he'd switch off and take the battery out at half eight on the dot, when work would start. A good excuse to give to Marion, even though he didn't like to lie to her. It was so, just in case as he always said, no one could track them. He didn't use his main phone to communicate with Thom with, just the other in his pocket that had already had the battery taken out but that was it. The main phone was a contract; the one pay as you go, which he would replace exactly every five days. He burnt the old ones; spread them out into sea again. New phones from different shops; if he had to return to another he'd laugh and just say that he was clumsy. Simple as really. With his left hand, he opened the door to the store, welcomed with the sound of the ticking clocks, and with his right he opened the text message from Marion, received at eight-o-five-am on the dot.

'_Stressful day already; don't think I'll have time for lunch but could you bring me a vanilla latte in four hours? Could really do with one x you owe me for last night x love you lots, have a good day x'_ it read. His lips didn't curl into a smirk but he would have done if it were just the two of them; her having said it to him face-to-face. Quickly, he replied back to her, his fingers soft against the screen; '_Of course. What's wrong? X'_ it took him awhile to give kisses on he ends of messages but he found himself enjoying it. He put the phone on silent, sending the message; he slipped the phone into his pocket, glancing about the front of the shop as he did. Coming from the back was a blonde headed, blue eyed Flynn with a wide, young smile on his face. He wore his black trousers and a white dress shirt, along with an apron on. He was obviously restoring something in the back for Nikolai, who figured he was more then just a shop boy; he was pretty decent when it came to the antique stuff; repairing it, making it look better and whatnot. He handed him the job of that, trusting him greatly. He was possibly in his mid thirties, had children, four to be exact, and a wife. When he learnt Nikolai had took so long just to get engaged he was a little shocked, but pleased for him none the less. Kind kid. Or man really; Nikolai had to stop thinking like Marion who put anyone, even just a day younger then her, as a kid.

"Mister Abaddon," he nodded with a smile. "How are you today?"

"Fine, thank you Flynn," he replied, feeling the phone vibrate in his pocket. He waited though; it was rude to take the phone out during conversation. Plus he couldn't really take it out just yet.

"How's Marion?" he asked him, moving about the shop to keep things in order. "I haven't seen her for awhile."

"She's busy," he replied; his eyes steady as usual. "It is just how she likes it though. How are you this morning?"

"Pretty well thanks," he smiled. He nodded at the door quickly. "You goin' to Second Miltia today?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I've got to get some business things sorted out. Will you be okay minding the shop for me?"

"Of course," he replied, smiling as he did. Nikolai didn't nod nor did he smile but such a thing wasn't bad when it came to him. Instead, he went into the back of the shop, clocked in quickly without making a sound. Before Flynn entered, he took his mobile out of his pocket casually and entered the shop area again, holding it up into the air; looking rather embarrassed. Good acting. At least Flynn wouldn't find it odd that he clocked in to work. Now on paper, for that day on wednesday the thirtieth of November, Nikolai had been working in the shop on the Foundation. Flynn couldn't remember which day was which, and he wouldn't argue with it.

"I keep leaving this thing here," he muttered. "Flynn if you see it around again could you drop it off for me?"

"Of course, Mister Abaddon," he agreed, feeling a little bad for not noticing his phone had been there. "I didn't know. I mean, I would-"

"Flynn," his voice was so soft yet something about him was so dominating that Flynn was cut off immediately. Such a strong aura he held about him. "It's fine. I'll talk to you soon. I should be back by this afternoon," and with that he left; opening the text message as he did as such.

'_Kukai's on our tail. Doesn't trust us. And I've got a criminologist on my team. It's not going well at all,'_ that was it.

Gaignun Kukai was going to die.

No doubt about it.

They would come for him and Nikolai wouldn't get caught. It would be so easy to do.


	3. Bitter Hate

**Chapter Three**

**Bitter Hate**

**Comments:** yay another chapter!~ I have to stop writing lmfao XD oh well, this is pretty fun actually. It's interesting to not have to use SO much imagry but think of things to put in the storyline more if that makes sense…like …oh I don't know! And there's glitter in my coffee somehow DX ahem anywaayy~ I won't update tomorrow, my friends coming over and I gotta do birthday/mothers day/me (I want a book XD) shopping so busy day and then its stay up all night and watch horror movies and that shinniz so I won't have any time to update, unless I can't sleep again tonight, which then I'll write and update at like five am but meh XD

**08:39am**

Pushing her back into the comfy chair, Marion eyed the black headed man seated opposite her, physically biting her tongue within her mouth to keep from yelling at him. Duncan could see in the corner of his vision her hands twisting together under the table; tugging at her fingers like they were made out of elastic; bending them here and there as a form of getting rid of her rage. He had to admit, he wasn't entirely happy about the situation though he wondered whether he was allowed to be angry or not. As they always said, he was just a rookie; not a fully trained cop yet so maybe, just maybe, he had to go along with the flow but still he couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. He was working hard too just like any other cop, or Detective really considering he had been paired with Frost who taught him the ins and outs of crime scene investigation as well as police work. She was a good teacher; a better Detective so he could see how her rage had emerged from feeling insulted. She trusted herself; had high, high confidence when it came to her work but it was still a painful thump if someone were to doubt her. They had no need to doubt her. In the awkward silence of the room, Duncan looked back at his papers in hand; scanning over the murders that had occurred within the last few weeks. They had all been tortured to death; one woman being drowned through her nose with her mouth sealed with duct tape (the tape cut precisely as he reminded himself) and another had been left dangling with his wrists cut; waiting to bleed to death. Every victim had a slow death. The others were gruesome; far too gruesome for Duncan to think over again but none of them left any trace. There were a few candy crumbs here and there, which made him think of the other case going on at the moment with the other victims but even those crime scenes held no trace. Six victims, well seven including Kukai, yet nothing to show who had done it; they were like a shadow. Frightening really, how something so terrible could happen without there being anyway of finding the killer. Well, he thought that but they'd find a way; him and Frost, and that Hunter guy along with Kukai if he was planning to help rather then just observe them. The only thing that allowed them to connect all the murders were the crosses found at each scene, which were made from different types of quartz from rose to onyx to agate. Frost had taken them to Nikolai who had informed her that they were all hand made though he had no idea who had made them. He said by the marksmanship that they had to have been professionals, especially since the creator had been able to get a hold of those types of quartz in enough form to make something. She had asked him whether he knew anyone with quartz; whether he had purchased any from someone for the pocket watches but he shook his head a no, apologised and carried on with work. He had lied, of course but Frost didn't know; no one apart from Nikolai knew. They had found a number of online stores selling the quartz at high prices though none of them were willing to give out the lists of who had brought them or their addresses and on the auction sites selling them, it was more the difficult to get a hold of the seller let alone the buyer for the items. Though they knew not to rest all their hope on the website shops, they had still applied for a warrant, which Frost had been told could take weeks to get; it hadn't left her all that happy. Leaning his head to the left, Duncan could see Travis Hunter talking to Haden in the hallway; his body a big build; a mixture of fat and muscle. The kind of body you don't know whether is overweight or just lean. His shoulders were wide; his legs stocky with his hands far larger then Duncan's. He was taller then Haden, weirdly; perhaps standing at about six foot three inches and his attire was rather peculiar, but Duncan knew Frost hated it already; she hated when people weren't neat for work, and even though Duncan tried he couldn't really please her with his own attire but Hunter was going to drive her insane. He wore a pair of dark blue jeans, with a pair of tan boots on the bottom of his feet along with a grey and red check dress shirt, with the sleeves having been folded up to his elbows; even from where they were, they had been able to see his arms covered in long, brown hairs. Frost, with her eyes, had been able to see, all the way from her office, his right forearm that carried more then a hundred scars that looked red still; hypertrophic scars that would never leave his body again. Finally, upon his head was a red cap that covered his dark, messy locks. He was a rough looking man and that unkempt face made him look even older but Frost still knew that she'd dub him kid even if he looked centuries older then she.

"You know…" Frost finally spoke, breaking the silence though she ground out her words as she tried to avoid the rage following them. Duncan saw her fingers tightening around her wedding ring finger as she pulled at the bone. At this point she would have been tapping her feet like any other person would do under a stressful situation but she couldn't so she took it all out on her hands, not caring for the pain she was giving herself. Kukai had looked up at her with raised brows; his face unreadable to them both. He was sat casually with his hands on his knees, showing he had nothing to hide but he hadn't spoken much apart from a small good morning. For the last five minutes they had been sat in silence, feeling the annoyance coming from Frost. "It's going to be far dangerous for you to follow my team around, Kukai," she explained; her voice a little softer as she managed to overcome her anger. Duncan couldn't help but feel a little relieved; he thought she was going to say something about why Kukai was really there. He wasn't sure whether they were allowed to know, but it wouldn't have took them long to figure out. No one was mad enough to be 'protected' by people that constantly visited hot scenes or interacted with dangerous people. If he had wanted protection he'd stay in his Durandle room with guards around. She looked up into his eyes, watching as he thought of an answer; his hands moving unconsciously in a nervous action on his knees. Tilting her head to the side, she raised a brow. "Don't you think?" she finally questioned with a high tone on the end of her voice, sounding like an innocent school child. Duncan leaned his head on his hand, glancing around at Hunter ever now and then. He stood like he was a little nervous despite how he towered over Haden. Duncan wondered whether he'd look nervous around Frost who was a foot shorter them him, and of course; crippled (he didn't like that word but it was true – her leg utterly useless while the other one only good for a little bit).

"I do understand what you mean," Kukai replied with a steady voice. Man, he was good. As he lifted his hand, she saw a printed number on his palm; the number six-six-nine. Opening her pad, she jotted it down, knowing something was odd about that number but she couldn't quite think what. Who in the world would tattoo a number on their palm anyway, in bright red ink? "But with your team I know I can be a little more safer then being alone."

Frost frowned slightly before straightening her neck with a little sigh. Taking out a black folder, she wrote his name down on the front with her perfect handwriting; capitals of course, though she didn't normally write like that. Her normal handwriting was italic, old fashioned but unreadable to most because of the curls and flicks on her words that looked more like art, meaning she had to adapt to clearer writing. "I'm going to have to profile you, Kukai," she told him, raising a brow as she looked at his face, noting a little bit of shock in his eyes. "We do this to every victim, I'm sure you understand. Despite your position in the Foundation this is mandatory; you can't say no," she explained. Closing the folder, she nodded to Duncan, who was standing to his feet to grab it along with the pen. "We're going to have to do this in the interview room," she said, grabbing her crutches to stand. All Kukai could do was stand as well, unable to argue with her. She led them out of the office, which grabbed the attention of both Haden and Hunter in the hall; Hunters eyes staying on her legs for a few moments.

"This is Detective Marion Frost," Haden introduced the moment they were just a few feet away. In politeness, Frost stopped though she wanted to get away as quickly as possible. Hunter was a man she couldn't help but dislike already; his attire, his eyes that were looking from her badge to her legs over and over and the smell of his musky cologne. He looked nervous though as he stood there, obviously unsure of how to act around her. He couldn't shake her hand as far as he knew, but she too her hand off the handle of the crutch; the plastic strap still wrapped around her arm prevented it from falling to the ground. They only fell if she let go of them suddenly but if she adjusted her arms they'd be fine where they were. She held out her left hand to the man, obviously unable to let go of her right crutch that took her weight from her right leg; who hesitated but took it firmly. His skin was rough; his grip a little too tight and his palms were sweaty but it wasn't the worse hand shake she had. As politely as possible, she smiled at him. "Frost, this is Travis Hunter; the criminologist."

"Pleasure to meet you," she nodded, finally releasing his hand. She wrapped her hand back around her crutch tightly, evening out her weight on them. Already so early in the day, her arms were aching.

"The pleasure is all mine, ma'am," he replied in a voice far politer, far more well spoken then she expected him to have. Maybe with him, her and Gaignun Kukai around Duncan he'd learn to speak better. Thinking of Duncan, Frost nodded at him with a small smile.

"This is my assistant," she introduced, seeing a blush and a smile grow on Duncan's face. 'Assistant…?' he thought. 'She thinks of me as that?' she knew the joy would be pumping around his veins now that she had made his day. "Brian Duncan."

"Hey kid," Hunter smirked, holding out his hand for him to shake. Frost bit the edge of her lip, raising her brows at Duncan who shook his hand; looking deep into the man's eyes.

"I'm not a kid," he told him, causing Frost to smirk; good Duncan. When they had shook hands, Frost moved her attention back to Kukai.

"Come on," she said, beginning to walk down to the hall; followed close by Duncan. "I want this done by ten o'clock," she told him firmly.

"Where are you going?" Haden asked as the three of them walked down the hall, leaving Hunter to stand; unsure of what to do with himself.

"Profiling Kukai," Frost replied without turning her head. "Hunter, there's the case files in the office; go read over them and get yourself familiar with this," she ordered, which he obeyed to straight away. This was her team; her rules. If she couldn't have full control over the crime scenes she'd had full control over the new guy. Frost led Kukai into the room near the reception of the Station; the room small, with a sheet of two-way glass on the one wall; a typical thing in such rooms. She sat at the small wooden desk, Duncan giving her the papers he had brought through for her. She turned the tape recorder on as Kukai sat; introducing the time and date, along with the statement Gaignun had given to her the previous day. She raised a brow at him for a moment, giving him time to change his story if he wanted to but he made no attempt to. She sighed, and opened the folder, grabbing the pen as she did.

"Do you have any enemies, Kukai?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side. He paused again and she could see his body moving as he crossed one leg on the other. She couldn't help but for a fleeting moment wish she could cross her legs, but of course they had to stay straight forever unless she wanted to be in immense pain. The thought shook from her head immediately.

"None," he replied, despite thinking of Albedo in his mind but Albedo couldn't be performing these. Could he…? Crazed madman … a man with a thing about religion who could probably create those crosses if he wanted to but that night he hadn't felt Albedo in his room; he hadn't sensed him. He only sensed a stranger but of course, he couldn't tell Frost that he could feel when people were around or feel what they felt. So he had to lie, of course. There was no smell; no scratching. Only the feeling of someone being there who didn't belong. But what if Albedo had created better mental barriers? What if…

"Enemies of your family?" she asked as softly as possible; her voice having broke his trail of thought. Again another shake of the head, but just like her other question he blinked twice; his eyes looking to the left. Signs he was lying. Giving out a sigh, Frost tapped the pen on the table. "We can't help unless you answer our questions honestly, Kukai." He was getting on her nerves now. First he couldn't trust them and then he wouldn't answer her properly? No wonder they couldn't get the case finished with such a liar.

"I am being honest," he told her though he wouldn't look her in the eye. Suddenly, she slammed her fists on the table; causing both Duncan and Kukai to jump in fear from the sudden noise. She dyed to stand to her feet; to scream and shout in his face. She _hated_ that damn impudent snob!

"Bullshit!" she yelled at the man, not caring whether screaming at the chairman would cost her the job or not. If she lost her job she'd move back to Second Miltia; simple as. To the side of her, Duncan raised his brows from her outburst but could understand it. "Do you honestly think I'm stupid? Do you?" she continued to yell. "It's bastards like you that keep those enemies on the street! You can't lie to me," her hands that were fists were trembling on the table; her knuckles pounding with pain from how hard she had punched it. Her breathing was fast, with her pulse faster then it was in the morning. They could both see her entire body trembling; Gaignun able to feel the anger coming off her that reminded him much of Faith though he had little to fear with Marion: she wasn't going to tear him apart with her eyes. "You're here to make sure we're doing our job right, but we can't do that without you co-operating I mean, what the fuck? You want us to do it right yet _you_ prevent us by doing it by not answering right!" she growled firmly, shaking her head. "You…" she hissed; her voice darker then she had ever used it. "You're a little dirty rat dressed in silk. Don't you dare have the nerve to accuse us of not doing our job right," she growled; her voice not screaming anymore but still horribly dark. She glared firmly at him with her bright blue eyes, but he made no attempt to reply to her nor did his facial expression change. After her outburst followed a long silence, which she used to calm herself down; the silence awkward between the three people. Letting out a long sigh, she heard Gaignun shuffle in his chair before he spoke to her again.

"Piazzolla," he began; his voice as calm as anything. As he spoke, she looked up at him to make sure he was telling the truth to her. "Albedo Piazzolla. He works for U-TIC and he's my older brother. My enemy. He's mad enough to do all of this, trust me," and so she did; leaving the room so Duncan could carry on the interview.

* * *

**11:54am**

"Did you find any information?" Nikolai asked Thom calmly in the tan vehicle; Thom yet again munching away on his favourite foods. Gloves on, of course. Just in case. Nikolai checked the clock in the vehicle; coming up to the afternoon now, meaning he would need to get Marion her vanilla latte. He'd pick her some food up too, knowing that if it was a busy day (of course – he made her days busy now) that she would forget about lunch. She was already losing too much weight; her once slender figure becoming skinny now, which he wasn't too keen on. He preferred her at a normal weight with her beautiful curves, knowing that she was healthy; that was how a woman was meant to be, not as thin as a rail. For him, time was going slowly. He had split up with Thom a number of times to sort out things for their next murder that would occur at four minutes past five on the dot; the time the solder would come home, alone of course, which was when they'd make their move. Nikolai would have to be careful picking the lock though, he reminded himself. The apartment building he lived at had windows for walls at the staircases, and his door was close to it. Carefully he'd do it, of course. He didn't doubt his work, much like Marion didn't doubt her own. Only Thom held a bit of doubt but that was mostly worry for his own well-being. He didn't want to be caught, especially because he'd have to admit what he had done to those women meaning he wouldn't ever get a chance with that pretty black headed cop or find Shion Uzuki who he wanted so badly. When Nikolai had asked him the question, he forgot about those two women for a few moments while he nodded his head; replying to him.

"His next door neighbours a mum," he explained, unable to stop himself from thinking of that woman. He munched his crisps in hand, talking with his mouth full. "In all the time. Got a baby so she's not gonna really take notice if she's hears ya."

Nikolai nodded solemnly, before looking at Thom for a moment. He knew he was hungry and had an idea, which would go perfectly to plan, as to how to get him away for an hour so he could go visit Marion. Taking a sharp turn to the left, he headed down a road that would lead to the beach that belonged to Gaignun Kukai; his home not too far away from it. "You like red hair, Thom?" he asked his friend, slowing the car down. A few blocks away from the house he stopped the car at the curb. Calmly, he looked at the large man, as if he were just talking about normal things when his motive was far more sinister then he had made out. Thom preferred black or brown hair but he nodded none the less, feeling the hunger grow in his stomach. He was starving…So, so hungry… "Gaignun Kukai has a wife I was watching for awhile," he began, knowing what he would do would really hurt Gaignun; perhaps get him away from Frost for enough time so Nikolai could kill him off. Everything he did had meaning in the bigger scheme of things; everything. "Have you ever seen her? Her names Faith."

Thom tried to think, but then he remembered. She was a small woman, with a thin figure but beautiful all the same; her face was round, her hair beautiful and her body … He shoved a candy bar down his throat as Nikolai continued to talk in his monotone voice. "She doesn't work – she studies at home by herself. No one visits her until after four, when people start coming off work," Thom was smiling from Nikolai's words; his grin like a Cheshire Cat. Nikolai felt a little better, especially because he had disappointed his friend yesterday but now he was making it up to him. "I need to run an errand, but I'll leave the car here," he turned off the engine, knowing Thom would go to the wife of Gaignun. "Don't take the car closer then it is and meet me in town at one. Wear gloves," and with that, Nikolai had left the car, leaving Thom to think of his lovely little red head on her stomach, her face away from him. He didn't like seeing their faces.

* * *

**12:09am**

Frost had lost track of time, so deep in the information regarding Kukai and Piazzolla that she had forgotten the world about her. There were no medical records for Piazzolla, but Kukai had assured her he was a real person after so many questions; he was telling her the truth, yes, but where had his records gone to? No bills, no phones in his name or vehicles or anything. He didn't exist according to the system but the strangest thing ever that she had seen was that on Kukai's profile he had no siblings; an only child with a mother and father and his son Gaignun Kukai Jr, along with Faith his wife, but that was it. Something didn't add up yet something did add up and she felt like she was going utterly bonkers, chasing after someone that possibly didn't even exist. But Kukai's eyes were so strange when he told her about Piazzolla; he was telling the truth but…She felt like punching the table again but she couldn't; not with him and that stupid Hunter in her office, who was asking her question after question regarding the lack of prints or anything to lead them to even a suspect. He questioned her actions once or twice, making her want to punch his lights out but she kept her cool. She couldn't really have two outbursts in a day let alone three, but she was coming close to it. Kukai still couldn't tell her the truth, but he knew later that he'd try to speak to Albedo himself to find out whether he had committed the murders or not. It was painstakingly strange; how could they catch a man that had no trace whatsoever? Being so absorbed by her work, she had failed to notice Duncan standing to his feet to open the door to Nikolai, who thanked him; his voice deaf to Frost's ears. It was only when she felt a warm hand on her own, along with a little whisper of her name, did she click back into reality; seeing the soft eyes of Nikolai glancing down at her; the latte in his hand along with a plastic bag dangling from his wrist. Nikolai looked at Gaignun for a moment, feeling a tingle in his heart as he remembered what was happening to his wife at that moment in time. At least he was keeping the man away from his fiancé; Marion was safe.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologised solemnly, putting her latte on the desk along with the bad. She could see a baguette wrapped up inside plastic in the bag; made from southern fried chicken and salad; her favourite. A smile grew on her little face, remembering she had text him earlier to bring him a latte from the stress. Thank goodness too because the coffee at the Station was so dodgy she couldn't help but wonder whether it was even safe to drink. A little laugh left her lips.

"How are you late?" she asked, knowing she had text him exactly four hours ago and he appeared right on time.

"You messaged me at four minutes past eight," he told her precisely; remembering how specific he was when he came to time. The corners of her lips drew inwards as he continued to talk. "It's now…" he paused, leaning over her head to look at the screen where a clock was ticking away in the corner, near her work. "Nine minutes past. Five minutes late."

Frost laughed; her eyes brightening in a way Hunter never knew they would or Kukai; they had only seen her at her worst. "Oh well, thank you," she said, craning her neck so she could kiss him on the cheek. He didn't smile, though his eyes were brighter as usual; only in their own company was he more open with his feelings. "Oh, this is Travis Hunter; our criminologist," she smiled, nodding towards him. Nikolai walked across the office to the man who was sharing a desk with Duncan. He had been looking over evidence, or lack of, before Nikolai had arrived.

"Nikolai Abaddon," politely Nikolai introduced, holding out his slightly smaller hand. Hunter smiled brightly, shaking his hand; his scarred arm fully on show, which grabbed Nikolai's attention for a moment. "I'm Marion's fiancé," he informed him, so the man didn't get a little freaked out by the sudden visitor. The thick brows of Hunter rose as he absorbed the information. As he let go of Nikolai's gentle hand, he looked over to Frost with slightly wide eyes.

"Damn," he muttered a little to himself, causing Frost to frown. "I thought you were her dad or older brother or-" he broke off, feeling something hit his arm almost painfully. The thing banged to the floor, and he shot his eyes to it, seeing a calculator on the floorboards. Looking up to Frost, he wasn't granted a second to ask her what she was doing.

"Good God," she breathed with a gasp; her face disgusted rather then mad. Nikolai could see little bits of repulsion in her eyes, knowing exactly why she was so horrified by such a statement and he knew that underneath the table, where she had hidden her hands they would be trembling furiously as disgusting memories flowed through her mind he had tried many a time to get her to forget. The only other person that could pick up on her utter repugnance was Gaignun, who unknown to _almost_ everyone could feel any emotion. "He's not my father; that's…" she shook her head, feeling wave after wave of a tingling sensation run through her stomach that she didn't like. She knew she was put off her lunch already from his words. "Repulsive."

"Sorry, ma'am," Hunter quickly said, raising his hands in defence. He didn't want her snapping at him; Haden had already warned him of her little temper, which he had heard a few hours ago when she was screaming at Kukai in the room down the hall; her voice being _that_ loud. Frost sighed and shook her head, swallowing all her emotion before looking up at Nikolai. She ignored the comment Hunter had just said, asking Nikolai how his day had gone. After a few minutes of talking, a phone ringing disturbed their speech. The noise emitted from Gaignun, who didn't waste a moment to pull a mobile from his pocket.

"Gaignun Kukai," he introduced politely, frowning immediately. "Faith?" he questioned; his eyes looking horrified. Frost frowned, watching as Kukai's face began to grow pale with horror; his hands trembling around the phone. "Sweet, sweetheart, shh, shh," he whispered, putting a hand on his head; his emotions falling out of him like yolk from a cracked egg. Frost saw a tear fall down his cheek, which was when she immediately grabbed her crutches to stand; something bad had happened. More then bad. "We're coming, we'll be over there soon, I promise," he paused as she began to speak more, which he quickly replied to. "No, no you're not, please stop saying that," he whispered. "No, it's good you didn't do that…" he told her assuredly; more tears plummeting down his cheeks. "We'll be right there…I love you…" he hung up the phone; his hand slowly lowering from his ear where it had been cradled. Just as his hand was at his chest, a furry of rage shot through his body which caused him to throw the phone to the ground; the back coming off it. With his left hand, he covered his mouth, taking a moment to stop himself from crying in front of so many strangers; this wasn't him. He had to keep himself under control but oh God…Faith…The team looked at one another, while Nikolai watched Gaignun carefully; seeing how he broke. He deserved it for doubting his fiancé but now, Thom was full; Nikolai knew it and they could carry on. Soon though, Gaignun wouldn't be able to feel a thing emotionally, so those feelings of hatred, guilt and sadness would soon go away; Nikolai would take them away for him. No need to worry.

"What happened?" Frost asked with a steady voice. She wanted to pick up the phone for him but of course couldn't. Instead Hunter picked it up and slipped the back on. He put the phone on the desk as Kukai wiped the tears from his pale face; his eyes already becoming red and puffy.

"My wife…" he whispered, shaking his head in denial. He thought of Albedo; was he the one to perform such an action on her? Kukai knew he would, if he got the chance Albedo would hurt her where it hurt the most; emotionally and physically. Suddenly, he stood up; towering over small Frost, which caused Nikolai's eyes to widen; he wouldn't hurt her. No one would. Looking deep into her blue eyes, his emerald ones shook. "If you don't find the man who did this…I'll hold your entire team responsible. I'll make it so you never work a case again," he hissed, causing her lips to part. She knew what had happened; Faith was now the newest rape victim, the day after her husband was meant to be killed. If she could find out whether it was the same man who performed the other actions to other women, she may have been able to link the cases together, making things a lot easier to work with but he had the nerve to blame…her?

"Don't take your tragedies out on us," she countered, taking a step closer to him. "I have evidence of you lying to officer's don't forget; evidence of you giving us a false name and wasting police time. So far, Kukai, you're going to sit your ass down, wait here and keep your lips fucking sealed," she paused, glaring firmly. Nikolai had to admit, he loved to see her work. Kukai said nothing in return, unsure of what to say. It was true, she did have more evidence against him and because of that she had powers over him. Even though he was the Chairman he had to abide the rules; he had to listen to the cop. "You got me?" she asked after the silence. Again he made no reply. Frost sighed hard. "Sit you're ass down," she repeated and he did; looking down at the ground as he tapped his foot. "Fair enough if you want to sit in the office with us but you're not following my team to an investigation, especially one so close to your heart. You're going to wait here. I will call you when Faith's been sent to the hospital for a check up, and then you can go see her. Until then you _wait_."

He said nothing in return, only feeling the want to go see Faith; to make sure she was okay. The only thing he didn't agree with about her speech was the false name; it was a real name of a real mad man but of course, to the force it would be false if there wasn't a scratch of information about him. And he really couldn't say what U.R.T.V's were.

"I should leave you to work," Nikolai said, giving her a small kiss on the cheek before leaving the Station. And with that, she, Duncan and Hunter left for Faith; hoping this time there would be a tiny bit of evidence. Just a little, little bit.

* * *

**12:44pm**

Faith had refused to go to a hospital, assuring the team that she was fine; everything was okay. Frost had called for cops to guard the home after they had searched it, and for the twenty minutes as they investigated the crime scene, Faith was on the phone to Gaignun; crying to him but assuring him things were okay at the same time. They had found remains of crumbs, along with a four inch chocolate coloured hair. They bagged it but it had fallen off the head without its follicle meaning there was no chance of DNA but it could be used for a comparison with a suspect's hair. One step at a time they were getting closer and closer to their target. After searching, they found nothing else and turned to Faith, who had hung up the phone and was sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest. She had given Hunter her clothes she had been wearing, along with a DNA sample of herself, who had taken them to the lab technician so that they could be tested. Sat on the couch, she wore just a pair of shorts along with a long sleeved, simple white shirt. Her red hair was messily tied back from her red, tearful face; her body trembling harder then it had possibly had done before, as if she had been engulfed in a bucket of iced water. On the side of her cheek, a bruise was already appearing and Frost couldn't even begin to wonder whether other bruises were on her little body. In contrast to how she had been yesterday, she wasn't the same woman; she had been reduced to someone so vulnerable and even though Frost didn't like how she acted the previous night, she hated seeing the woman go down in feistiness so much. She could understand how she felt; understand how it felt as if her entire world had come crashing down but she couldn't sympathise with her. She was there to find out about the incident, not make her feel better. The counsellor was for that, who Frost would direct her to straight away after their talk. Frost pulled a dinning chair up opposite the couch Faith sat upon, looking at her as gently as possible. Tears streamed down her face still, like an open faucet and Frost felt her heart skip a beat slightly. She still wasn't used to the pain victims had to go through; wasn't used to seeing people cry even after so many years. The fact she knew the pain victims went through didn't help; the only thing she hadn't experienced was a loved one being murdered, which was something she hoped she never had to but everything else she knew the ins and outs of.

"Can you try to think for me what the man looked like?" she gently asked, looking up at Duncan who had a tape recorder in his hands. Hunter had left already with the evidence to go over, leaving them with her. Faith paused before nodding her head slightly.

"He …" her words were coming out in little squeaks through sobs, like her throat had just been sown shut. "Baseball cap…" she whispered, which Frost nodded at. "You…that…shirt you had yesterday…"

"The football one?" she asked, titling her head to the side. Faith nodded, looking up into the eyes of Frost.

"He wore one…" she whispered. "One just like it…It wasn't yours though…Had…stains…"

"Can you tell me anything about him physically?" she asked. "Height, weight…?"

"He was bigger then that man earlier," she said, frowning as she searched her mind for the information. "The one with the red shirt," she covered her chest with her arms, folding them firmly in a defensive position. "Like really overweight…" her words were corresponding with the other victims. "I couldn't see his face…He turned me around…" she winced as a sickening feeling came over her.

"That's alright, Faith," Frost smiled assuredly. "You've provided us with a lot of information. Don't worry. Do you know a man named Albedo Piazzolla?" Immediately, Faith shot her eyes to her; those gems filled with raw panic.

"Y-Yes," she whispered, stumbling over her words. "He's G-Gaignun's brother…" it was true then; Albedo did exist, from the face she had given along with her tone but why weren't there any files on him? Just as she was about to ask another question, Duncan's mobile began to go off in his pocket. Frost nodded at the door to the kitchen, telling him he could take the call. Silently, Duncan left the room, allowing her to continue.

"Has he ever threatened you before?" she asked softly. Faith paused for a moment before slowly nodding her head. Parting her lips, Frost took in a breath to speak but just as she did, Duncan ran into the room; panic having struck his face as he looked to Frost.

"Boss!" he had yelled while running into the room. "There was a shooting in the Station. Two men down!"

_Faith was a distraction…_

**comments:** terrible chapter Dx but meehhh hope you enjoy lol xD


End file.
